


Dissipating

by artsyspikedhair



Series: violence and the repercussions [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape Friendship, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Severus Snape Being a Bastard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 23:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsyspikedhair/pseuds/artsyspikedhair





	Dissipating

Harry Potter was used to being forced to work. He was used to nobody caring about his injuries and illnesses, let alone his mental health. Harry was only two months into the school year, and his life was so much better than it had been prior to Hogwarts - he would not dream of complaining.

Harry attended his classes. He took notes on all the material. He focused on the fact that he was allowed to do well here, that he was learning _magic_ day in and day out. Harry Potter was happy, for the most part.

Harry kept himself busy, but he could not hide the fact that his notes were only so comprehensive because he planned on sharing them with Ron. He could not concentrate in Defense Against the Dark Arts, his mind unable to work without remembering, which Harry could not understand - he had always been able to work before, even with his aunt’s piercing, hungry gaze pointing at him, but somehow something about Defense unfocused him and triggered his memories of bathes and Halloween. (The true explanation for the distraction was that Harry’s mind was, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, nearly constantly being touched by the magic of Voldemort’s Legilimency.)

Harry was also cursed with the schedule of having Transfiguration directly before Defense. Professor McGonagall, ever since that first day of November, looked at him differently - Harry had never experienced anyone showing sympathy for him, and so he had no category to place the experience under. He listened and practiced and earned points for Gryffindor, but the kind treatment of the Professor was so alien to him that later, after the day became night and Harry walked down to the hospital wing before curfew, Harry would imagine that maybe she looked at him the way his mother would’ve. 

Harry knew better than to follow these thoughts on the path they lead him down, so he would think instead about Ron. Ron, who was still unconscious and reliant on the Mediwitch for most aspects of life. Ron could breathe on his own again, however, and Harry saw that as progress. Sometimes his muscles would move reflexively, and Harry could imagine/remember how Ron used to move. Madam Pomfrey pitied Harry, so Harry didn’t need his excuses to visit anymore.

The thoughts Harry refused to entertain in the waking hours plagued him in dreams. Sometimes the dreams combined fears - McGonagall was raping him, or McGonagall was his mother and younger and raping his aunt, or Professor Quirrell was watching Harry shower - and sometimes they were mere memories of the same sort that haunted him in Defense class.

 It was a day after one of these nightmares that Harry would find himself in another uncomfortable situation. The first class that day was, unfortunately, Potions. Harry missed Ron most in that class, as Professor Snape’s taunting was harder to bear without a friend. Harry missed Hermione too, although he felt selfish and awful for thinking about her because he only wished she was still alive so that he would not be the biggest target, the kid most likely to be called arrogant and trying too hard.

Professor Snape had made one comment too many about how “I don’t know how you’re treated at home, Mr. Potter, but in my classroom I do not pamper my students” and “it’s a shame Mr. Weasley isn’t here, he would likely be rescuing your potion from its fate of being Dreadful” and the anger and sadness and emotions that Harry bottled up for the past few months spilled out of Harry’s control. Neville noticed it first, because he had seen Harry go fuzzy like that before. He tried to warn Snape, but Professor Snape would never take anything Longbottom said seriously, so the black cloud enveloped the Professor.

Harry could taste Snape’s magic, as the Death Eater was engulfed in Harry’s Obscurial form, and Harry could experience for a small moment what went through Snape’s head - unfortunately, at that very moment, Snape’s memory was stuck on how Harry’s eyes reminded him so much of Lily, and how much fun Snape and Lily had had manhandling Lily’s muggle sister - and the Obscurial wanted to consume the magic, and Harry was content to let his instincts do what they wanted.

The whirlwind overturned the entire class’s cauldrons, and then the Obscurial left the dungeons. Harry’s suppressed emotions fueled his jaunt, and suddenly the grief of losing his friend lead him back to the hospital wing.

The Obscurial was not evil, it was merely magic. The magic that had acted evilly in killing Snape acted selflessly in favor of restoring Ron’s consciousness that Madam Pomfrey was unable to.

“Wha-?”

Madam Pomfrey had been at a meeting with the Headmaster when she walked into the hospital wing to see Ron Weasley with his eyes open, staring at the Obscurial. Madam Pomfrey had only ever seen an Obscurial before in her medical school textbook, and she watched in simultaneous horror and fascination as the mist settled back into the form of Harry Potter.

To deal with whatever had just occurred, the Mediwitch grabbed Veritaserum from her cabinet. She needed to find out if she had a criminal case in her midst, or if she needed to go to the Goblin Nation to help cure the boy.


End file.
